For Ciara Who Refused
by Rayniekinnz
Summary: 'The Top 7 [Stereotypical & Factual] Symptoms of Pregnancy.' MPreg. CRACK. Dramione.


**Summary**: 'The Top 7 [Stereotypical & Factual] Symptoms of Pregnancy.'  
**Pairings**: Dramione [Hermako?]  
**Category**: Humour/CRACK AS FUCK  
**Warnings**: MPreg.

**A/N:  
Backstory – was chatting with my teammates [Montrose Magpies] and it literally went like this when trying to help Ciara with her submission for one of the rounds:**

**Me: **THE PLOT-TWIST IS THAT DRACO'S PREGNANT.

**Ciara: **No.

**Me: **Oh D:

**She [jokingly, I'm sure] said I should write that particular idea, so I did! :D You're welcome ;) First Dramione and now I kinda wanna write some more ;-; thanks a lot. **

* * *

**FOR CIARA WHO REFUSED:**

**Top 7 [Stereotypical & Factual] Symptoms of Pregnancy**

**_1) Morning Sickness_**

It was nearing Draco's wedding day and he couldn't have been more pleased. His parents had agreed [reluctantly] to welcome Hermione into the family, Weasley wasn't trying to stab him under the table anymore and he was _ready_. Ready for marriage, living full-time with the love of his life and eventually having kids – _eventually_ because his Hermie refused to stop working until she was good and ready.

Sighing happily, he thought about his stubborn lioness. She really was a fiery one in between her bouts of insecurity. She was, after all, the one who asked him out – not that he wouldn't have asked her, he was just…working up the nerve. _Cough_ was too busy hiding the spontaneous erection that came to life whenever she walked by _cough_.

It was as he was climbing out of bed that a wave of nausea hit him. Clutching his stomach, he barely made it to the toilet before he was throwing up his guts. His knees hit the tiles with a sharp _clack_, dull pain zinging through his legs as he hunched over the seat. It ceased a few minutes later, but he stayed where he was and tried to get a grip on himself.

Every morning – and sometimes in the afternoon – for the last week he had been having a thorough visit with the toilet bowl as he was sick. For the first few days he had thought nothing of it as he didn't have any other symptoms, but he was starting to get worried. What if it developed into something horrible and they had to postpone the wedding? He would never forgive himself!

"Draco?"

_Hermione!_ He panicked, flinging himself off the floor and slamming the bathroom door shut. The lock snapped into place and he leaned heavily against the door, trying to calm his frantic heart. "I-in here! I'll be out in a minute!"

"Are you okay?" she asked immediately, jiggling the door-handle. "Are you ill? Draco!"

"I'm fine!" he squeaked, cursing his voice and clearing his throat. His mouth tasted absolutely horrible and he was loathe to swallow.

"Dra—!"

"I'm _fine_!"

"…alright," she said uncertainly. "I'm going to see Harry, okay? I'll be back later to meet with the planner."

"Yes, okay," he said anxiously, clutching his stomach. All that movement certainly hadn't helped his predicament. He waited until he was absolutely sure she was gone before waddling back to the toilet [he was afraid if he let go of his stomach he'd puke again] and somehow kicking the flushy-thing so he wouldn't have to move his arms. Groaning, he hoped he would be better by the next day.

**_2) Sore Breasts_**

Hermione had snuck into his bed sometime in the night. She was pressed up against his back – the 'big spoon' – and had one arm curled around his waist, palm flat against his firm stomach as she nuzzled his neck. It was still early, probably only six, so they were free to play for a bit before they were expected for breakfast.

"Morning," Draco smiled sleepily. "When did you get here?"

"Few hours ago," Hermione mumbled into his shoulder. "'m cold."

Grinning mischievously, he twisted around so they were chest-to-chest. "I could always warm you up…"

Hermione smiled back at him, blushing lightly. She leaned up for a kiss and he automatically curled in closer, groaning softly when he realised she was only wearing one of his pyjama tops. Running a hand up her thigh and onto her hip, he parted his lips and brushed his tongue over her lower lip.

Yelping, he flinched back when one of her hand brushed over his pecs. She startled too, but frowned a moment later and squinted at him through the dim morning light.

"Draco?"

Shaking his head, he scooted back over and tried to press them flush together – _tried_ being the operative word. He was immediately assaulted with the same tender pain and he hissed, throwing himself off of her and cupping his chest.

"…Draco?"

Flushing, he scowled under her curious gaze. "I don't know! That stupid potion must not have worked completely – my poor not-boobs hurt…"

"…want me to kiss your not-boobs better?"

"…yes."

**_3) Frequent Urination_**

"…and I was thinking we could have some purple edging, with some…"

Draco was bored listening to their planner rattle on, but more importantly – he had to go. _Badly_. It had started as a distant buzz that slowly built and built until he was shifting and fidgeting in his seat like he had ants in his pants. He didn't want to interrupt the session though, so kept it silent. Besides, he had gone before they entered the offices and that wasn't even twenty minutes ago!

"Draco?" Hermione whispered, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he bit his lip, squeezing his legs together. "I…have to go the bathroom…"

"Again?" she hissed. "You went just now! And before we left! And after breakfast!"

"Is something wrong?" the planner asked worriedly. "Do you not like something?"

"No, no! It's perfect!" Hermione assured, allowing Ms. Keeps-Forgetting-Her-Name to get back into her drone-fest before turning back to him. "Draco, if you're bored you can just leave."

"It's not that!" he insisted, trying to keep his voice hushed. "I really need to go! I don't know why!"

"We only have a few minutes left, just wait until then."

He wanted to argue – he really, _really_ had to go and that stupid water-fountain in the corner wasn't helping! – but kept quiet and tried not to look at the clock too frequently. Finally, _finally_, the planner closed her book.

Draco was out the door and down the passage faster than his aunt out of Azkaban.

**_4) Mood Swings_**

"I don't _want_ the blue one!"

"Draco! You're acting like a child!"

"Y-yeah? Well—well you _look_ like one!"

"Wouldn't that mean you're a gross old man for marrying her?"

"SHUT UP, SCARHEAD! NO-ONE ASKED FOR YOUR OPINION!"

"Don't shout at Harry! Draco, just put on the bloody robes and—!"

"NO! I look _FAT_ in them!"

"…Draco, you look the same as always in them."

"…"

"_Oh my god_, are you _crying_?! Draco! What's wrong?!"

"…I can't believe you said I look fat at the time! What kind of girlfriend are you?! You're supposed to say I look fucking sexy no matter what!"

"W-what, Draco, I didn't say that—"

"Oh, so now I'm a liar too?! Gee, you're just _chock_-_full_ of compliments today, huh Hermione?! I'm a childish fat liar – what else do you really think about me?!"

"What the fuck, Malfoy! Get off—oh my god, don't wipe your nose on—ugh, fine! There, I'm hugging you! Happy? Do you want me to pet your hair and sing you a lullaby too?!"

"…yes," he sniffed.

"…"

**_5) Cramping_**

"Oh _Merlin_!"

"Dr—"

"It's like a Hippogriff is stomping all over my insides!"

"Dra—"

"Now it's making a bed out of my intestines!"

"Drac—"

"OH MY GOD, IT IS CHEWING ON MY KIDNEYS! _CHEWING!"_

"…?"

"DON'T JUST SIT THERE, RUB MY TUMMY! Rub it! Rub-ohhhh, _yesss_, just like that…"

Hermione tried to ignore the funny looks they were getting from the other Department Heads, but she knew she would have been staring too. Draco writhing all over her desk and purring when she gave his hurting belly some loving truly was a sight to behold.

**_6) Strange Cravings_**

Draco dug into his dinner with more gusto than usual, oblivious to the horrified expressions of his parents and fiancé. He dribbled gravy all over his plate and sipped at his specially-ordered carrot juice before taking a large bite out of his cheese and pear soufflé – kindly baked by a _very_ confused House-Elf.

"Draco…"

"Yes, Mother?" he asked curiously, blinking. His father looked particularly green that evening, napkin held over his mouth and nose with Hermione diving to do the same. His mother seemed less bothered than them, though not by much. He thought they were being more than a little rude.

"_What_ are you doing?"

"Eating?" he frowned, glancing down at his plate. "…do you want some?"

"_NO_!"

**_7) The Pregnancy Test Says You Have A Bun In The Oven! :D _**

"But, _why_?" he whined as he dragged his feet, grumbling when Hermione yanked him forwards. They were currently in St. Mungo's – though Draco didn't see why, he hadn't been sick in weeks! – and they apparently had an appointment with a Mr Jenkins.

"Just come!" she said, making a face when he giggled. "Oh, real mature! We're late already, you berk!"

"Yeah, yeah," he huffed, speeding up a bit. He figured if they got there faster, they could leave faster and then he could go back home and ask Missy to make him another chocolate-drizzled steak.

"Mr Malfoy, Ms Granger?"

"Mediwizard Jenkins! Thanks for seeing us on such short notice!" Hermione blustered, smiling weakly and shoving Draco into the examining room. He slouched onto the allocated bench and rolled his eyes at his fiancé's back.

"No problem," the man smiled – a little too happily, he thought suspiciously. "What seems to be the problem?"

"It's Draco," Hermione said worriedly, putting a hand on his thigh to keep him in place. "He's been…acting strange and I just don't know what to do!"

"Really?" Jenkins frowned, glancing him over. "Can you list any symptoms?"

"Well…he's been eating strange things, he has constant stomach cramps, nausea, mood swings…um, he's been going to the bathroom more regularly…I think that's it…what is it, why are you looking at him like that?!"

"Ms Granger, I'd like to perform a simple spell on Mr Malfoy. Would that be okay?"

"Yes, yes!" she said before Draco could argue – how dare they treat him like a child!

Jenkins lifted his wand and waved it simply, murmuring an unfamiliar spell. A length of parchment immediately popped up beside his head and he grabbed it, unrolling the ends and studying whatever it must have said. This went on for a few tense moments before he nodded and allowed the ends to curl up again.

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" Hermione asked frantically. She had a good idea, but she didn't want to make any assumptions before getting a professional's opinion…

"Congratulations, Mr Malfoy, Ms Granger. Mr Malfoy is nineteen weeks pregnant – the foetus is healthy, by the way. A little smaller than average, but that's not uncommon within male pregnancy. I could tell you the sex of the child, if you wish?"

The silence was deafening. Draco stared blankly at the man, waiting patiently for him to laugh and call it a joke well done…except he never did. The silence stretched on and he felt his heart stutter.

Before either Hermione or Jenkins could react, he was tumbling off the bench in a dead-faint.

Hermione blinked before leaning down to help her boyfriend back onto the bed. Jenkins helpfully cast a feather-light charm and Draco was laid across the length of the table.

"Snape's gender-swapping potion was a success after all…I suppose we should have expected some side-affects like this, though. I'll be sure to make sure the womb is properly taken care of next time – and we should make a note to use contraception, too! Who'd have thought ovum could be turned into sperm so easily and vice-versa? Hm…"

**END**


End file.
